


Finish'd joy and moan

by Petra



Category: Slings & Arrows
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-04 03:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halloo your name to the reverberate hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finish'd joy and moan

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://sionnain.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sionnain**](http://sionnain.dreamwidth.org/), who asked for it.

The apartment building where Darren and Geoffrey could afford a room, given that it was rented with the combined wages of day jobs in a pizza delivery place and a bookstore, respectively, plus the occasional paycheck from an actual acting job, had all of the tensile strength of cardboard. It became permafrost around the first of October and the deepest Amazon on the first of July, swayed in stiff breezes, and echoed like an amphitheater whenever anyone made love in it.

The couple on the second floor had just moved in together for what must have been the first time, and seemed to be christening every room in the place by the sound of it, even at one in the morning. "Is that the kitchen?" Darren asked, analyzing the resonance of the wails.

"I don't want to think about it," Geoffrey said from underneath his pillow. "God, will they ever shut up?"

"She usually fakes three orgasms before they're done." Darren rolled over and kissed his shoulder. "There's only one reasonable reaction here, you know."

"Banging on the floor?"

"If you want to do it on the floor, that's fine with me."

Geoffrey spluttered and hit him with the pillow. "I have to be at work in seven hours."

A caterwaul interspersed with cursing filtered through the floor. "You're not going to sleep through that."

"No, you're right." Geoffrey kissed him. "But we're not having some kind of contest."

Given that that was the secondary purpose Darren had in mind, he fell back onto his best method for manipulating Geoffrey: tormenting him with what he loved best. "'In your denial I would find no sense; I would not understand it.'"

"Oh, no." Geoffrey wrapped a hand around his cock. "It's attached. You're no Cesario."

"So you don't want me to halloo your name to the reverberate hills?" Darren pushed into his fingers and pulled him into another kiss. "You project better than I do anyway."

"I'm not screaming your name," flatly, as if that was the end of any sort of discussion.

Darren grinned; he'd thought Geoffrey knew better than to challenge him. "Make the babbling gossip of the air cry out--"

"No." Another kiss. "That's just scenery-chewing anyway."

"Not always." Darren ran a hand down his side. "You were hardly quiet the first time you let me fuck you."

Geoffrey sniffed and nuzzled his neck. "Well. You were surprisingly good at it."

"Surprisingly!" Darren pushed him away. "I hope you're not too surprised at my prowess anymore."

"Not at all. The novelty has worn off." Geoffrey yawned so widely and immediately that it had to be theatrics. "I'm used to you."

"Just for that, I really will make you scream." Darren sat up.

Geoffrey blinked at him. "What are you planning, some kind of sadomasochistic extravaganza? No, thank you."

"Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight--turn over, would you."

"Fine." Geoffrey folded his hands under his chin. "And it's not that you're not good at it, you know. Just--you know I'm having fun, I know it, why tell the neighbors?"

Another cry echoed up from below.

"To make them jealous, or make them realize how obnoxious they are." Darren kissed his lower back and he shivered.

"The best defense is a good offense?"

"Always." Darren patted his thigh. "Spread a little for me?"

He'd promised himself months before that he would never take this for granted, though he also refused to spend large amounts of time rhapsodizing over exactly how attractive Geoffrey was, or anything of that sort. There were still moments when he had to catch his breath and put his thoughts together, though; even by the halfhearted illumination of streetlamps outside, the moment was worth a declaimed speech.

Geoffrey interrupted his thoughts before he had so much as a couplet, which was probably for the best. "What are you planning? You can't reach the lube from there."

"I know." Darren kissed the curve of his buttock. "That's a moot point at the moment."

"Oh--I see." Geoffrey reached back blindly and found his hand. "You're perverse," he said, and it sounded exceedingly affectionate.

Darren laughed, squeezed his fingers, and let his hand go in favor of spreading him open and licking him. "I know," he said over Geoffrey's gasp. "You keep reminding me."

"Fuck, that's better than it has any right to be." He shivered under Darren's tongue and buried his face in the pillow. "But I'm not--nn--not going to scream."

"Whatever you say."

Geoffrey laughed and gasped as Darren pushed his tongue inside him with an obscenely wet noise. "God, you never--fuck--sound so--submissive." He lifted his hips and shuddered again. "Should do this more often."

"Maybe."

Geoffrey made an incoherent noise and arched up again, getting his knees under him. "Fuck 'maybe.'" Even with his face pressed against the mattress, he was somewhat louder than normal, but not significantly so. "That's--Jesus, that's good."

Darren had to agree, not only from the viewpoint of experience, but because there was something singularly addictive in making him writhe. But there were standards to be upheld, and he wasn't about to forget that. "On one condition."

"Don't stop, fuck--condition?" Another gratifying full-body shudder, and one would have to be a real asshole to keep pausing.

"You're still being too quiet." Darren grinned at the way Geoffrey's hips jerked.

"I, damn it--" Geoffrey reached back and smacked his shoulder. "They don't care. They shut up."

Just for that, Darren made him wait longer. "Revenge is sweet, and flavors all my dealings."

Geoffrey snorted and thumped the mattress. "My ass tastes like revenge? Good to know. God, you bastard, you want me to shout the place down?"

"If you're not enjoying this, why would we do it again?" Darren asked, and gave him a reason to yell.

"Fuck," Geoffrey said, at a much greater volume than before. "I can't--nn--breathe enough to, God, anything," he added more quietly.

Trust him to be a perfectionist about exhibitionism, just like everything else. Darren gave him a reassuring pat on the hip before stroking his cock.

The extra friction made him thrust forward with a groan that the irritating neighbors must have heard even over their own serenade. "Don't stop, don't stop," he chanted, making iambs of the words. "Oh, fuck, that's good. That's so damn good--I can't--I need--"

"What?"

"More," low enough that it was almost a growl. "Please, fuck--fuck me, yes--" and he came with another wordless shout that shook the whole apartment as much as he was shaking the bed.

The sheets were a wreck, as was Geoffrey, who flopped forward and lay there quietly for quite a long time. Darren lay next to him and ran a hand over his sweaty back, rubbing his shoulders. "Falling asleep?" he asked after a while, debating the relative merits of groggy sex versus something more lucid in the morning.

"Nn." Geoffrey put an arm around him. "Yes. No. Maybe."

Darren kissed his cheek. "Good night, then."

"You don't mind?" The consonants were so lost that the meaning was only clear from context.

"You'll make it up to me."

He hadn't meant "by pulling me into a damp embrace and falling asleep immediately," but neither was he about to complain.


End file.
